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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 3 months ago

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“Nosferatu” (2024) and the Female Gothic Genre, Paganism and the Occult

The Gothic novel genre is deeply connected with female authors like Ann Radcliffe, Mary Shelley, Brontë sisters, Mary Robinson, and Charlotte Dacre, because it allowed them to explore themes that were “off limits” to women at the time (19th century) especially sexuality and women’s place in a patriarchal society. Hence the “Gothic female” genre was created, as a way for female authors and readers to digest their mixed feelings about these topics. This is the world Robert Eggers transports his audience in “Nosferatu” (2024).

This film checks every box of the Gothic genre: claustrophobic atmosphere, environment of fear, the threat of the supernatural, ruined buildings (usually from the Medieval ages), dreamlike states, nocturnal landscapes, demonic possession, blend of “high culture” and “low culture” (folklore), superstitious rituals, melancolia, melodrama, decay, fate, the macabre, the intrusion of the past into the present, stories of persecution, imprisonment and murder as metaphors for social conflict.

Indeed, the audience can’t analyze this story through contemporary lenses or bias, because it’s suppose to be an immersive experience into the Gothic genre and the Victorian era. The terms “gothic” and “romantic” exist in their historical context; “gothic” as in the literature genre (gothic novel), and “romantic” as in the 19th century artist movement (Romanticism).

No, this is not a story about grooming nor abuse... it can be, but not in the way many are interpreting it. Folks also need to let go of previous adaptations and their meanings, because this is Robert Eggers take on this story. And, it’s everything a remake (or retelling) should be, because its not a rehash, it’s a new interpretation of a old story, “Dracula”.

Robert Eggers tells us that the themes of sex and death are at the core of his story, it’s a “demon lover story”, and it’s Count Orlok and Ellen psychosexual connection that makes his adaptation different from the rest.

Ellen is our female gothic protagonist, and, like similar characters of the genre, she’s a persecuted heroine fleeing some a villainous outside force, personified by Count Orlok, the archetypal Death. Metaphorically, she’s a young woman haunted by her own mortality, by Death itself. She also has a sense of Doom looming over her, the heavy hand of Fate; can we outrun our destiny? “Providence!” Herr Knock screams throughout the film; as in a supernatural force, commonly God, guiding humanity destiny.

Ellen is no typical young woman, though. As she tells Von Franz, she had occult powers since childhood, being able to perceive glimpses of the future and suffering premonitions (knowing the contents of her Christmas gifts and when her mother would die). Her father called her “his little changeling girl”, as in the European folklore of human children kidnapped by supernatural creatures (fairies, demons, etc.) and a substitute being left in their place. Herr Knock also compares Ellen with a “sylph”, when he informs Thomas he’s to travel to Transylvania. “Sylphs” are air spirits from 16th century Germanic folklore and alchemy, a sort of nymph connected to air element in hermetic literature; throughout the centuries they have been culturally associated with fairies, too. We have two characters in the story connecting Ellen with a fairy-like creature. Interestingly enough we, the audience, see her floating in the opening scene.

“You are not for the living. You are not for human kind”, Orlok tells her, and calls her “enchantress”. Von Franz also said Ellen could have been a priestess of Isis had she been born in pagan times. Isis is one of the major Egyptian deities, considered the goddess of magic and healing. She was also connected with the Dead and funeral rites, since she was the sister-wife of Osiris, ruler of the Underworld. Pagan priestesses also entered trancelike states as Ellen “hysterical seizures” or “epilepsies” when communicating with the spiritual world, which is what Von Franz, the occult and alchemist student, recognizes in her. Ellen is a supernatural force, too.

Eggers Orlok was a sorcerer in life, a practitioner of Black Magic. He was one of the Solomonari, wizards from Romanian folklore, believed to be students of the Devil, who learned to ride dragons, and control beasts and the weather. In Eastern European tradition, the Solomonari were believed to be recruited among common folk and disguise themselves as beggars, Orlok is a Romanian nobleman who sought to achieve immortality, to conquer Death. As the abbess tells Thomas, the Devil preserved Orlok’s soul that his corpse may walk again in blasphemy, as a vampire feeding off the blood of the living and spreading plague.

However: who was it who awoke Orlok in “Nosferatu”? The Devil or Ellen?

At the prologue, we see Ellen crying and begging for companionship. She prays for a guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, a spirit of any celestial sphere, anything, to hear her call and come to her. She’s summoning some occult force and inviting it into her life. Orlok answers her call. And why is she doing this? She feels lonely, isolated and misunderstood by those around her. As she tells Von Franz, she’s no longer her father’s “little girl” and he recoils from her touch, because she’s no longer a child. As she grows older and enters womanhood, she starts to feel ostracized and put aside by 19th century society who has rigid gender expectations of her.

According to Orlok, it was Ellen who awoke him: “O’er centuries, a loathsome beast I lay within the darkest pit… ‘til you did wake me, enchantress, and stirred me from my grave. You are my affliction.” Which Ellen later confirms to Thomas: “I have brought this evil upon us” because she sought companionship and tenderness. This is a belief Von Franz also shares: it’s Ellen who “wills it”, and she’s the one who unleashed this plague upon the world.

This is very fitting with the Gothic female novel, where the supernatural connects with female societal status of this time period, generally women’s discontent with patriarchal society, difficult and unsatisfying maternal position (in “Nosferatu” we see this with Anne’s character, where she equals being pregnant with being drained of her life force) and their role within society (fear of entrapment in the domestic sphere, their bodies, marriage, childbirth, etc.).

Eggers’ Orlok is a combination of several Romanian folklore creatures, associated with vampirism: strigoi, moroi (these two are the “classic” vampires) and zburător (a ghost-like creature, usually handsome, and only visible to young women, attacks at night, usually newly-wed ladies and does “indecent” things with them). The influence of this legend in Ellen and Orlok story is evident.

Ellen tries to summon a spiritual companion in her teenage years, most likely when she reached puberty and her sexuality was starting to awake. A demon who’s a personification of appetite, devourance, sex and death is the one who answers her calling. They end up in a sexual spiritual connection, as Ellen experiences her sexual awakening with him, as shown in the prologue and later confirmed how Orlok took her as his lover. She also reveals to Thomas it was “sweet” and she “had never known such bliss” at first, until it turned into torture (seizures and nightmares), when her father found her laying unclothed and called her a sinner and it’s implied she might have been institutionalized, as she tells Von Franz. This episode might be a metaphor for masturbation and the historical shame associated with it. Hence her connection with Orlok being her “melancholy” (depression) and her “shame”, symbolic for the sexual urges 19th century society forced women to repress.

Count Orlok is the archetypal Death; which culminates with the “Death and the Maiden” motif at the end. This was a very popular Art History archetype around the so-called “Plague years” (14th to 16th century) in Europe, and it’s often connected with other motifs like “Danse Macabre” and “Memento Mori”. It has several meanings depending on the author intent, usually a reminder of our mortality, but also a meditation on sex and death, as in the French “la petite mort” (“little death”), the post-orgasm sensation, sexual release potentially causing temporary loss of consciousness (fainting) or dizziness. In the Medieval Ages, physicians believed orgasms could lead to death because they drained the “life force” from the body. This was when the term “petite mort” was created, and this belief persisted into the Renaissance and beyond. In “Nosferatu” this probably translates in the sexual pleasure that Orlok imprints on his victims as he drains their life force.

Ellen’s “hysterical seizures” miraculously stop once she meets and marries Thomas Hutter, our tragic romantic hero. This can also be a nod to Gothic Bildungsroman (“coming of age”) genre; where the female protagonists grow from adolescence to adulthood in the face of the impossibility of the supernatural, and come to the conclusion there’s a rational explanation. In Ellen’s case, it’s medical, as she’s diagnosed as a melancholic somnambulist hysteric (in another words, a depressive hyper-sexual sleepwalker).

At the beginning of the story, Ellen and Thomas are newly-weds fresh out of their honeymoon, which means sex (historically necessary to consummate marriages). With Thomas, Ellen is “free of her shame”, as she says so herself. Because, her sexuality is safely contained within marriage, as it’s socially acceptable. But Thomas dismisses her concerns about his well-being, and doesn’t believe her until he experiences the supernatural first-hand, having an homoerotic encounter with Orlok himself, which also causes him great shame. This is probably a Easter egg for Bram Stoker possible closet homosexuality and “Dracula” being a metaphor for that.

Thomas’ main concern, throughout the story, is to fit into the patriarchal ideal of his genre, as a provider for his wife, and he aspires to be like his long-time friend, Friedrich Harding, the “perfect patriarch” with the perfect religious and dutiful wife, Anna, and their precious children. The Hardings are the perfect Victorian family; they are everything society expects them to be. Friedrich even chastises Ellen for her nature, and it’s clear he resents her for what she represents: “otherness” and “deviance” to societal norms.

However, soon enough, Ellen’s seizures return, symbolizing Thomas cannot sexually satisfy her. She’s “too ardent” as Harding calls her. “More! More!” She begs Thomas when they have sex to scorn Orlok. Not only her sexuality is too strong, but Thomas also shares with Friedrich his desire to wait to have children with Ellen because he wants to gain financial stability first. This in a time period when contraceptives weren’t widely spread, meaning abstinence.

Symbolically, Ellen’s seizures can also be connected with her fear of childbirth. Her “epilepsies” return while she’s staying in the Harding household, where they are children and Anna is pregnant. Children is what is expected of Ellen next, after all. But it’s sexual pleasure that Ellen seeks, and this causes her great shame and torment, because 19th century women weren’t suppose to known “such things”. “Sin! Sin! Sin!” as Ellen’s father screamed at her when he found her naked.

Fear of entrapment represented as Ellen tries to rip off her corset and “free herself”: this happens during one of her Orlok induced seizures.

As Robert Eggers tells us, Orlok both disgusts and attracts Ellen, she loves and hates him at the same time. He’s repulsive, rotten, animalistic and lustful, both literally and metaphorically. His character design is meant to invoke contradictory feelings in the audience: overall he’s foul and monstrous, but he appears almost handsome in some shots. This is intentional. Not only he’s a personification of Death, but of Ellen’s repressed sexuality by 19th century society. He represents the monstrous and dangerous female sexuality the Victorian era sought to contain. He’s the transgression and taboo theme in this Gothic story, as well: necrophilia. Which is probably Eggers “gotcha” moment to “vampire lovers” everywhere, as he forces his audience to confront their own bias.

Ellen herself is a medicalized character, as we see her being institutionalized, drugged, bound to her bed, forced to wear a corset to bed, and used as a scientific experiment by physicians. She’s not in control of her own body, and has little agency over it, overall. We see her being contained, literally and metaphorically, too. This is probably meant to symbolize women as a whole in 19th century Western European societies. The “disability of being female” is one major theme in Gothic female novels, after all.

And if Ellen unleashed Orlok unto the world and he’s connected with her what does this mean for this story? The obvious interpretation of the ending it’s Ellen sacrificing herself to save Wisburg from Nosferatu’s curse, like every other adaptation. But this appears to be somewhat disconnected from the overall themes of this particular retelling. Here, it’s Ellen who unleashed the curse, and only her can put an end to it.

We see Ellen summoning Orlok in two occasions: at the beginning and at the end of this tale. At first, she did it unconsciously, she dabbled with the occult and wasn’t aware of what she was inviting into her life. However, does this indicate Ellen has some degree of control over him? Orlok himself says she’s “his affliction”, and they are bound to one another. She’s not only a seer, she’s compared with a priestess of a Goddess associated with funeral rites and with the ability of resurrection and looking after the Dead (Isis). We can almost interpret her as a necromancer.

Here, we can have a different interpretation of Orlok unleashing a plague upon the society who ostracizes Ellen for her nature. Symbolically, he’s her reckoning, her vengeance upon society norms and expectations of gender. He’s the “plague carrier” and brings a “blood plague” transmitted by rats (symbolic of the Black Plague; the medieval ages terrorizing the modern world of science and rationality) upon Wisburg, and the “good Christians” who contain and shame “Pagan” Ellen.

Orlok’s most notorious victims are the Hardings, the perfect patriarchal Christian family model Ellen can never fit into; the patriarch Friedrich, the pregnant Anna and the two children. This also fits the Gothic female genre of the supernatural menace as a metaphor for women’s status in 19th century society. Ellen doesn’t want to be married to a patriarch like Friedrich, she doesn’t express any desire to become pregnant nor have children of her own. Consequently, we see Orlok killing all of these archetypes in the narrative.

Interestingly enough he spares Thomas and saves him for last when he should be his first victim once he arrives at Wisburg, because he’s the husband. However, Thomas is a character Ellen loves and cherishes, as he somewhat accepts her nature and represents her chance at a “normal life”. He’s also determined to save her from Death/Orlok, but is unable to. Symbolically, Ellen chooses death over conforming to gender norms and expectations.

However, we can’t forget Ellen’s supernatural nature, nor her connection with Orlok. She weds Death at the end, she’s no longer terrified of him, and she fulfills their covenant, and her dream premonition of marrying Death: “standing before me, all in black… was… Death. But I was so happy, so very happy. We exchanged vows, we embraced, and when we turned round, everyone was dead. Father… and… everyone. The stench of their bodies was horrible. And - But I never been so happy as that moment… as I held hands with Death.”

A “covenant” is a pact, both a religious and a occultist practice. This is a “blood covenant”, as their flesh becomes one and he drinks from her. “Blood is the life” is a quotation from the Bible, where “blood covenants” are also mentioned, because a “blood covenant” has the power to either destroy or redeem. For instance, Christ’s sacrifice redeemed humanity according to Christians. “Redemption” as Von Franz says, because only Ellen, like Christ, can redeem the habitants of Wisburg. He uses the expression “with Jove’s holy light” before dawn redemption will come to them: “Jove” is Jupiter, the “King of the skies”, and its energy neutralizes Saturn’s, connected with “melancholy” (depression).

However, that’s not what’s happening here, because Orlok is a servant of the Devil, and a literally un-dead “warlock”. So, what is Ellen pledging herself to here, exactly? Her covenant with Orlok has nothing to do with God or Jupiter, for these are forces of good, when Orlok is a force of evil and darkness.

Ellen also fulfills her role as “priestess of Isis” at the end, as she guides the un-dead Orlok to his physical death; like Isis, she resurrected him, and is now taking him into the Underworld with her. Because, like Orlok also told her, she’s “not for the living”, that’s her fate, the destiny she accepts at the end; she’s meant for Death, as Isis for Osiris.

“Our covenant is fulfilled. Your oath re-pledged.” Orlok tells her. But what was Ellen’s oath? We have to look into the prologue scene “You shall be one with me ever-eternally. Do you swear it?” And in the ending “As our spirits are one, so shall be our flesh. You are mine.” They fulfill their pact both in the physical and the spiritual worlds, and both make the ultimate blood sacrifice, by physically dying for “self-renunciation” is essential for blood covenants.

And a deity is always summoned to bless such a pact… but who was blessing this one? Ellen and Orlok indeed, died in the physical world, but are joined in the spiritual world forever, as decreed by their covenant, so where did their spirits go?

They are also surrounded by lilacs, their signature flower throughout the narrative, which symbolizes first love, yes, but also renewal and rebirth. Orlok conquered Death and immortality once before, because the Devil kept his soul. Now that Ellen is joined with him in spirit, what does this mean for her, and for them both?

#nosferatu 2024 #Ellen Hutter 2024 #friedrich harding #anna harding #Thomas Hutter 2024 #Count Orlok 2024 #von franz #lily rose depp #bill skargard #bill skarsgård #nicholas hoult #emma corrin #aaron taylor johnson #willem dafoe #ellen x orlok #orlok x ellen #robert eggers

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ivesambrose · 2 years ago

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ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛꜱ

1. 2. 3.

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝°❈°╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

If you feel lost, aimless, overwhelmed or unsure in regards to yourself this has found it's way to you at the right time.

Personal Readings

Masterpost

Thank you for the tip! 🌹

Picture 1

A lot of you are burnt by your own ambitions and a need to prove something. You quietly wonder if you're even passionate about anything anymore or you are but do not what to do, where to start so you end up spacing out and procrastinating. Likely you were made to believe that if what gets you excited and happy doesn't automatically put you on the map and bring you money in traditional ways then it's practically useless.

You have in a way put yourself down consistently due to these external projections.

Of what I'm picking up on some of you are passionate about the following :

- Dancing

- Fitness

- Makeup

- Music

- The occult

- crafting something intricate such as designing jewellery or curating them

- A select few might be into taxidermy, herbology and even archeology

- A combination of the above, some of you have your own allure and might want to get into modelling, styling, dancing and design. You want to express yourself freely including your sensual as well as spiritual and esoteric side.

You want to be known but you want to stand out, with your accumulated power you want to guide others too, make them feel less alone and more understood and yet you want to be an enigma and mystery. You do have a strong potential to be a muse to many.

Your hidden talents:

- Something that is coming through significantly that it is something from your past/childhood/early teens that you had to sacrifice/were made to sacrifice even if you cared for it deeply and wanted to nurture it. It makes you bitter to this day because you were naturally good at it.

- Some of you should definitely consider working for animals especially birds. You have a gift to heal and develop empathy with them.

- Some of you can end up being excellent bakers and decorators.

A lot you can find success in the entertainment industry, media, running your own business and being your own boss, you have excellent leadership skills and determination it's just that you haven't gotten the chance to explore that side of yourself yet.

The advice here is to only look back at the past to pick up what you had left and walk ahead. Become your friend and ask your own subconscious to show the way, trust me you will be shown when you least expect it.

Picture 2

You simply love to learn and acquire knowledge. You could have specific subject(s) you're drawn to or you don't even like limiting yourself to that. You'd rather be an eternal student. I wouldn't be surprised if you were drawn to picture 1 or 3 as well. You have a thrist that sometimes almost feels insatiable.

You are rather intellectual and often give very sound advice. Mainly cuz you are highly self aware and very intuitive.

Regardless of anything else, you seek inspiration and adventure above all. You do tend to get bored with just one thing easily.

Of what I'm picking up on, some of you are passionate about the following:

- Learning, experimenting, teaching and innovating. Again this could be any topic or multiple. Could be something as literature and academics or physics or could even be cooking or carving wood. You could even be here educating people about Gothic architecture or the human anatomy. Or all of this. You're not meant to confine yourself.

- A lot of you seek travel and adventure. Even be passionate about extreme sports.

- Languages and culture.

- Some of you want to try and do everything, experience different things and don't want to niche yourself down. Your passion can simply be experiencing your life to the fullest so you have wisdom to give and stories to narrate and memories to look back on and trust me, that is more than enough.

Which quickly brings me to your hidden talents because you're supressing quite a few:

- Some of you can be excellent astrologers or even astronomers.

- A lot of you can read into symbolisms real. You can be a gifted psychic too if you aren't aware already.

- You can be really good at sports like archery, fencing, MMA etc

- Creative direction, photography is also coming through.

- You're very good with your words, whether it be in writing or speaking.

You are rather mutable and a very poised individual too, you can easily influence the people you come in touch with. Some of you can be good speakers, representatives or the face of a brand. Whatever you do, you end up being very good at it whether you like it or not.

The advice is to simply continue what you're doing, you're not as lost as you think you are. Keep making connections and continue being yourself instead of trying to make yourself small and fit in or follow trends or the algorithm.

Picture 3

You feel like a misfit and an outsider so much so that being passionate about anything worries you because you may end up looking a fool, not being good enough or not being disciplined enough.

You carry a lot of anguish in you mainly because you had to focus on things that were expected of you or because you had to survive so you might feel like you're good at many things but not great or could be great at something but you don't necessarily love it.

You're an interesting group here because you haven't even allowed yourself to feel excited about things.

What are you truly passionate about? I see nature, authenticism, a slower, softer life. The word passion itself feels too intense and deliberate for you.

You simply want to experience a life that doesn't feel like you running on a treadmill till your knees give out.

I do see there's an innate desire in you to help others, be it people or animals or even a dying plant. You want to find your peace and bring some of that peace in others lives too. Your energy feels like a walking into a warm cabin in the woods during winter with freshly made dinner waiting.

Hidden talents you have ample, a lot of them are based on learning and perfecting with practice :

- Cooking, experimenting with different herbs. I do see some of you have the potential to start a small business that involves food.

- Gardening and farming

- Painting

- Tattooing (this is coming through because it can be very therapeutic for a lot of you)

- Perfume making is also coming through as well as skincare.

- pottery and sculpting, crocheting etc

- reiki, medicine, physical therapy etc

- divination

Think of a life that's a bit more laid back a career that makes you feel less on the edge.

You've already been running on the validation of people who think you're dispensable or your worth is tied to something outside of you that you can't even find meaning in.

The world needs more souls like you.

The only advice is to be more compassionate with yourself, you're not running a race even if people have constantly been reminding you of it, there's no finish line. The only truth that matters is the story you tell yourself, over and over again. It will come to pass. Continue being. Continue creating instead of wondering about the how. You've figured out many things in your life, let life sort this out for you.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #PAC #pick a pile #pick a card reading #psychic readings #spiritual community

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prettyshinnythings · 1 month ago

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The Offering. Chapter 4

Story Idea: What if Sauron had been successful? What if he'd taken all of Middle Earth and obtained everything he ever desired? What if he still desired something more?

Warnings: This chapter is 18 plus. Contains smut, language, and an arranged marriage. There's also some vampire Sauron happening in this chapter so warning!

Chapter is unedited!

Pairings: Sauron x Reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4:

I had always dreamed of going to a masquerade ball. I had always been drawn to the allure of the beautiful masked faces that concealed the identities of party goers. The idea of losing yourself behind a mask. It was enticing and electric, a feeling that seemed to hang in the air around me.

The throne room had completely transformed from the day before. The tall cathedral arches in the ceiling of the castle seemed more shadowy in the darkened candle light of the room around me. The chandelier nowhere near as bright as it had been on my wedding day. Candles lit the walls, spaced out just enough to provide the comfort of its flickering flame. It was the first masqaurade ball I had ever gone to, but it was hauntingly beautiful. Gothic, dark, and alluring.

I hold tight to my husbands arm. He walks forward, eyes surveying the room with a cool expression from behind his black leather mask, his eyes blazing with power. A look that was distant and full of authority. He did not want to be viewed as one of the others, no he was far above the people he ruled over and you could see it in how he held himself.

With his back straight, finest black robes, and the crown upon his head, he looked every bit the king that he was.

My dark king.

I find myself looking up at him in awe while he keeps his gaze forward. He knows that I am watching him and I know that he knows because I see the smirk that tugs at the corner of his lip. My husband's court watches us closely, their eyes surveying us in silence. As instructed, I was wearing the red gown my husband had picked out. It was a fitted dess with a sweet heart neckline and off the shoulder sleaves. The dress was fitted along my body until it reached my waist, then it loosened into a flowing gown, befitting a princess. The dress was as red as fresh blood, but beautiful all the same. I wondered if that is why my husband chose it for me.

Eventually I pull my gaze from him and back to the room around us. I could not help but wonder how long it had taken to put together. I momentarily wish that I could thank the ones who did put it together, but I know he would not approve. He would view it as his servants doing their job, nothing more. Not a reason for awe, but a requirement for surviving. Looking out at the sea of courtiers I feel the nerves travel up my back as I notice the salacious sounds emanating from the corners of the room. Secret pockets where lovers made no secret of their sexual encounters. It almost shocked me how open the courtiers are. But then I think of how sinful my king was, the way his dark eyes seemed to darken whenever he looked at me. I think back to this morning when he had taken me in the great hall on the dinning table. He may have sent his courtiers away, but they all knew what we had been gearing up to do. With Sauron as the king of Middle Earth, no sexual urge was judged. As long as he maintained control he cared little for whatever else his court got up to.

I remain silent as he guides me up the stairs that lead to his throne. Each step forward I feel the eyes of the courtiers on us. I was not used to the feeling, but a quick glance over at my husband I realized just how much he relished it. At the top he slowly turns us to face the party goers. Everyone watches with baited breath, the room silent apart from the mysterious lovers finding solace in each other. He takes a seat at his throne, eyes moving from our guests to me. Even through his mask I can see the dangerous expression in his eyes. As he had done this morning, he rests his head back against the golden throne, his eyes moving up and down my body. My breathing hitches the longer we watch each other. As if I meeting him for the first time all over again. His smirk grows, his thumb lightly tracing his ring of power on his left index finger.

"Be a good little dove and sit upon my lap. Let them see their queen in the hands of her king."

My breathing hitches at his words, but I do not make him wait. Instead, I face the court as I sit down on his lap, his chest against my back. The silence that had already fallen over the room seems to grow quieter still. That is until my husband glances past my shoulder, hands lightly tracing over my exposed shoulders.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Start the music."

He barely needs to raise his voice for the command to fall over the room and compliance to be demanded. Instantly, the courtiers and the enslaved elves come to life. The courtiers dancing and the elves beinging to start to serve food and drink. The harp starts first, peaceful notes coming from an unknown part of the room. A man's voice sings over the harp, and it is one of the most beautiful singing voices I have ever heard. But I am not paying a single bit of attention to what the song is saying, or the movement of our party goers, I am too caught up in his hands. The way his fingers trail along my collar bone, sending chills up my spine. His lips are on my neck, just below my earlobe. My eyes flutter closed at the gentle sensation of his lips on my neck.

"My lord..."

I breathe, my heart seeming to beat hard in my chest. He had already fucked me twice today, once with his mouth and once with his cock. But something inside of me told me he was about to try for a third time and I knew that I was not strong enough to not give into him. He would take me as many times as he wanted and I would want it as much as he did.

"... I cannot imagine you crave me again. Surely not this soon."

My words amuse him. He chuckles and begins to suck at the skin of my neck. His tongue marking me as his own, tracing over where he had marked me before. He uses his hands to hold my body in against his, grinding himself against me. His cock hard against my bum.

"I cannot help it my little dove. Especially when you are dressed like this."

He groans the words against my neck, my head tilting back to give him better access to my exposed skin.

"Did you forget that you are the one who dressed me?"

I ask, my hands reaching out to take his in mine. Our fingers intertwining together.

"I know and I have excellent taste."

When he says the word 'taste' I feel his teeth nip at my skin. Like a vampire hungry to devour me whole. The sensation of his teeth on my skin sends a chill up my spine. I know that he can sense how aroused I am and I cannot bring myself to care. He bites a little harder, hard enough to bruise and it feels like perfection. His left hand releases itself from mine and ghosts up my arm before entangling itself in my long hair. He grabs a fair amount of my hair and pulls it to the side, earning more access to my neck. His grip on my hair is firm enough to mold me in the position he wants, but not enough to hurt. It feels good.

"You know, there was a time when Morgoth granted me power over dark creatures. Werewolves and vampires and I could take on those forms. I still can. Would you like me to drink from you little dove? Hmm?"

His words are intoxicating and spellbinding. But he knows my answer without me needing to say a word. He hums in response as I whimper a faint 'yes.'

His lips traces over my neck, lightly grazing before I feel pointed teeth. I know I should be scared, but I trust him. I trust him more than anyone else.

The chill that moves up my spine is all consuming as I feel his teeth sink into my flesh, drinking me in. I cannot stop the way my quiet moans fill the space around us. My eyes open as he drinks from me, looking out to the members of the court who are dancing to the music still playing in the room around me. No one is paying attention to us which makes this moment feel all the more intimate. The longer he drinks from me the more my head feels as if it is spinning, the candle light blurring under my gaze.

Before I want it to end, he pulls his teeth from my body. Swallowing the last few drips before nestling his head into the crook of my neck.

"Only blood can bind (y/n) and you are bound to me in every way."

There is possession in his voice, but I already know he possesses me. He has possessed me since the moment I was presented before him as a choice for a wife. Since the second he touched me.

"I know."

I whisper, trying to catch my breath. I glance over my shoulder to meet his gaze. Through lust blown eyes, he looks at me like I am the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Without thinking, I guide my lips to his. My blood is sweet on his lips, a taste that is unlike anything else I have ever tasted before. Our lips dance together until we cannot bare another moment without breath, only then does my forehead find his, our bodies desperate to regain control.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, long enough for me to shift in his lap. Moving my body to face his in the throne. My legs on either side of his lap, our eyes locked together. I do not speak as I place my lips against his. A slow tender kiss that causes him to freeze for only a moment before placing his hands on my waist and deepening the kiss. It could be the fact that the kiss was not of carnal desire but of something deeper. Maybe he could sense the love I had for him and it scared him. Perhaps he peered inside my mind and was unsure of whether he wanted me to feel anything but desire for him. But I could not help but feel something more. It was as though we were fated to be together. Our gazes lock in gentle anticipation for whatever is going to happen next.

“Can I ask you for something my king?”

My voice is small when I say the words. My hands move to his mask untying it from behind his head to reveal his handsome face. I set the mask down on the arm rest of his throne before glancing back at him. His face was the most handsome face I had ever laid eyes upon. I knew he could change forms, but this form was the only one I had ever known. It was a form that brought me great comfort. The dark fabric of his robes contrasting with his long blonde hair. He looked like an angel, but I knew he was anything but. Worse yet, I did not care.

“Of course, you may ask me anything little dove.”

He rasps the words as his hands move from my waist, to my own mask covered face. He unties the mask as I had done with him, and sets it on top of his mask on the arm rest. His hands return to their place along my waist, gripping me firmly as he pulls me in against him, our chests touching.

“Would you please take me? Right here on your throne?” I whimper against his lips, my hips jerking against his hardened errection. My voice is braver than I feel, lust in every word. My voice almost a breathy moan. A dark chuckle escapes him as he peers back at me in silent awe. As though he is surprised his once innocent wife could make such a request let alone ask it out loud.

“You wish for me to fuck you out in the open? For all to see?”

His tone is slightly amused when he speaks, but he does not make a jape at my expenses. Instead, he seems to be asking for clarification. As if he is ensuring that I meant what I have requested before he dares to do anything else. I peer up at him wide eyed only thinking of my words for another second before I nod. I do not know if it was the sound of the other lovers moaning and fulfilling their own desires that had made me want to do this, but I knew that he was what I wanted and I did not care about anything else.

“Please, Mairon.”

I beg desperately. Pathetically, but I do not have any shame. I have never desired anyone like this before. He had quickly turned into something all consuming. The mention of his true name causes his eyes to darken a few shades. His jaw tight as his eyes move between my gaze and mouth.

“As you wish my queen.” He rasps, his voice a low growl as he presses his lips to mine. His touch is almost animalistic and needy. His hardened cock seemed to stain against his robes more so much more than it had when I had grinded myself against him moments ago. The heightened tension causing a chill to move up my spine. I deepen the kiss, his left hand moving up the back of my spine until grasping the back of my neck. He grips me tightly, our bodies molding together like two perfectly placed puzzle pieces.

A moan brushes past my lips as I break our kiss, my forehead resting against his while I try to catch my breath. He consumed me, almost like I was breathing him in with every touch and kiss. I gasp as he grinds himself against my sex, through the layers of fabric of my red gown.

“I confess, that no one else will see us like this. I have created an illusion for our guests to see. To them, you are sitting upon my lap and nothing more. I do not want another soul to see you as I do. You are mine and I shall not share you with anyone else.”

He sounds possessive when he says this, but it does not bother me. It excites me. Knowing that he did not want to share me with anyone else, that he wanted to keep my body for him and only him. The thought alone causes my breathing to still, my body frozen in his hands. He uses the stillness as an opportunity to slowly lift the fabric of my dress up along my legs. Stopping only when he’s reached my thighs.

The anticipation building between us is thick enough to cut through while his fingers lightly trace the inside of my thighs. I had not bothered with any undergarments and the moment his fingers dip between my legs I know he is thankful for one less step between him and my needy sex. He lightly traces my clit with his index finger, slowly circling my sensitive bud. The light touch sends a sharp sensation of arousal through me, my stomach turning in delight. I keep my head against his, my lips mere centimeters away from his as I breathe in sharp breaths.

I hear him chuckle darkly as his middle finger dips inside of me. Past my soaked folds, he starts to thrust his finger deep inside of me.

“Fuck.” I whimper as he slowly pumps in and out of me. The swear on my lips causes him to chuckle once more, his other hand still grasping me from the back of the neck. He pulls me back to look at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he watches me closely. He seems to be enamoured by the look on my face as he brought me closer to the edge.

“Are you enjoying yourself sweetling?”

His tone is condensending, his eyes peering down at me with cruel intent. He knows my answer all without needing to read my mind or having me utter a response. I can only whimper as I move my hands to hold onto his shoulders to keep me in place whilst I ride his finger. My eyes locked onto his. He adds another finger inside of me when he decides to torture me further. Knowing full well that he is the one in control.

My eyes flutter closed as I focus on his fingers and the way my walls clench around him as I approach my climax.

“Mairon.”

I murmur in a heated daze as the nerves in my lower stomach begin to build up. But as soon as I feel myself on the verge of spilling over, he stills his actions. The smug look on his face somehow growing when he sees my brow furrow in confusion. His fingers pull out of me slowly leaving me empty in their wake.

“Hold tight to that feeling little one. If you are going to cum, I want to be inside of you…” He pauses, eyes on mine as he gestures for me to stand from his lap. Which I do, my legs shaking slightly as I try to hold onto the building bundle of nerves growing between my legs. I watch him closely as he slowly lifts his robes up his bulge prominent in his trousers. I find myself fixated on the bulge as he slowly pulls his trousers down, his cock free and leaking with precum. His smirk turns cruel as he watches me closely, my fixation turning to hunger.

"Come."

He rasps, head back against his throne as he looks at me carelessly. The command in his voice is soft, but demanding and I know that I cannot wait a moment longer. With as much grace as I can muster I lift the fabric of my dress up so I can straddle his lap once more, allowing the fabric to cascade around us, sheilding our indecent exposure should his illusion fall away. I feel the head of his cock at my entrance, teasingly cautious as he watches me.

"You are so pretty..."

He growls, the head of his cock slowly dipping into me. Deeper and deeper until he is inside of me fully. Once he has filled me to the brim he does not move. He waits for my soaked sex to adjust to him.

"... You look even prettier with my cock inside of you."

I feel my cheeks redden at the words, but he does not allow me the time to be bashful before he begins his slow thrusts inside of me. His hips rolling his cock deeper inside to reach new angles within me. New satisfying parts of my sex that I had not thought possible to reach. My head falls back, my neck exposed to him as he places his lips along my collarbone. I grasp onto him as he starts to bounce me on his cock, each thrust gaining speed as he does this. I feel my brain start to spin at the sensations pulsating through me. Overstimulation threatening to push me over the edge.

However, this overstimulation only worsens when I feel his lips slowly move up from my collar bone to the same spot that he had drank from earlier. Without warning I feel his teeth sink into me once more. The sharp sting sending my body to new heights. I moan shamelessly into the air, my body breathless and wanting. He chuckles against my neck, smug as ever as he drinks from me with ease. Between the sensation of his cock and the bite I am lost in a sea of depravity. I feel my body slowly making its way towards the edge and I do not know how much longer I can hold onto this feeling before I spill over. He knows that I am close, he can feel it in the way that my walls clench around him. In the small sounds of pleasure that escape me without any control.

"That's it little one. Take my cock. Take my cock like a good little wife."

He growls the words once he stops drinking from me, my head as dizzy as it had been when he first drank from me. The sharp sting of his lips leaving my flesh allows me to focus on his cock. He is rougher now that he is chasing his own high with mine. I feel him twitch inside of me, not yet spilling his seed inside of me, but getting pretty damn close to. He seems to read my mind as I feel myself getting to a point of no return. Unable to not hold back a moment longer.

"Cum, my darling wife. Cum all over your king's cock."

Permission is all that I need to unravel before him. His thrusts quicken as he feels me soak his cock until he is as deep inside of me as he can be. Deciding then would be the perfect moment to thrust his seed into me. I gasp at the sensation of his release mixing with my own, his thrusts slowing with each twitch of his release until he is still once more. I lay my head against his as my breathing struggles to regain normalcy. His as uneven as my own when he pulls out of me.

We do not speak as we collect ourselves. Even with me in his lap, he is able to pull his trousers back up, concealing him once again. The silence that had fallen between the both of us is comfortable, my eyes peering into his once more. I do not know what to say now and I can tell that he pitties my awkwardness.

"Dance with me."

He whispers, his voice is gentle as he brushes some of my hair out of my face, tucking a strand behind my ear. He sounds so sweet when he says the words, so sweet that I cannot deny him, even if dancing was not something I was necessarily good at. His smile grows when the thought enters my mind.

"You do not have to dance perfectly (y/n). All will bow before you regardless of your skill."

I do not know what it is about the way he says the words, but it causes a lump to form in my throat. I had never known a kindness like his towards me. My own family had never been this kind, mainly because this arrangement had been all they cared about. They had taught me to be the perfect, submissive wife, worthy of our dark king. They did not care for how I felt, only that I would be agreeable to him. The perfect offering. His brows furrow at the tears that form in my eyes. Momentary confusion for what had upset me so.

"Little dove, do not cry. They can no longer hurt you."

He speaks with caution before pulling me up off of his lap, so we can stand face to face. We adjust our clothing, his trousers concealing him once more and my dress falling back to the ground, our audience none-the-wiser. I swallow the lump, the discomfort unable to wash away as quickly as I would have liked. But then again, what kind of pain could be swept away so carelessly? But I do my best as he leads me to the stairs, slowly with his hand entwined with my own. I follow him silently and note the way his hand brings me comfort as it guides me forward. I glance around the room and see the courtiers watching as we join them on the dance floor. Whatever illusion he had created earlier must have fallen away when he and I stood from his throne. My breathing hitches when he turns to face me, his eyes encouraging whilst he takes one hand and places it on my waist. He uses his other hand to grasp my own.

"Follow my lead (y/n)."

He murmurs for only me to hear, his lips brushing my forehead before he gives me a light kiss. The music that had been playing his entire time seems to fade into the background while he moves into a waltz, one that I follow. He starts off slowly for me, but quickens when he sees that I have managed to keep up with him. Dancing with him makes my heart skip a beat, it feels like we were always meant to move together like this. Two pieces of a puzzle that were destined for one another. I do not know how long we dance, but one tune turns into another, and then into another. All the while I am having more fun than I could have ever imagined. At one point he spins me around and when he does I spot the smiling faces of his courtiers, kneeling before me as he had promised me they would. But that is not the sight that causes my stomach to turn uncomfortably, it is the figure tucked into the corner of the room. An elf man without the collar his enslaved elves wore. The elf is unfamiliar to me, but the weapon he holds in his grasp is not. I know that he is holding a spear and from the look on his face, I can see that my husband is his intended target. But my husband is too wrapped up in me to notice the intruder. I try to speak but no sound falls from my lips as the elf lifts the spear and aims for us. He throws the spear forward, faster than I wanted, but I had enough time to push my husband out of the way. So I do, I push him away from me and ignore the brief look of confusion that flashes over his face as he falls back onto the ground, missing the spear completely.

I however, do not miss the spear.

Instead, I am impailed from behind straight through the chest, directly above my heart. The room falls silent the moment the blade pierces my skin. When the weight of what has happened sinks in.

My body trembles as I look down at my husband, a tear escaping me. I point in the direction of the elf who was standing in his same position frozen to the spot. Shock on his face that I had been hit... That I had pushed Sauron the destroyer out of the way... That I would sacrifice myself for such an evil being. My husband's eyes shoot over to the elf, his gaze turning to pure rage. His eyes seem to blaze as he starts shouting for his guards to capture the elf. Followed by his demands for the nurse maids to help. He stands to hold me as my knees begin to shake, my vision blurring. The blade was infused with something vile and though I did not know what it was, I could feel it in my veins.

"Why did you do that?"

He rasps, holding me to him. I feel him reach around to pull the spear out of me, the weapon falling to the floor before he makes it disappear completely. He puts pressure on the wound, our eyes locking together. I am weak and losing consciousness, but I manage to whisper out one more sentence before I am engulfed in darkness. Passed out into an unfamiliar kind of exhaustion.

"Because I love you."

#annatar #annatar x reader #charlie vickers #halbrand smut #halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #the rings of power #halbrand #trop #sauron

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k-nayee · 5 months ago

Text

Fallen Hazbin Hotel ii

wc: 4.7k a/n: i hade fun dipping my toes into the Hazbin universe! and though this might be the final installment of this specific series, expect another HH project soon!

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

You take a deep breath as you stand outside the door of the Hazbin Hotel.

It had been years since you'd last seen Charlie, and in that time, the little girl you'd known had grown.

Nervously you reach out and press the doorbell with a trembling hand, the faint chime echoing beyond the heavy doors.

As you wait memories begin to surface—filling you with the bittersweetness of everything that had brought you here.

"I...wasn't sent. I was cast out. I—"

Before you could continue a small determined voice cut through the tension.

"Daddy stop!" Charlie's tiny hands pulled insistently at Lucifer's arm as she cried out. "She's my friend. She wouldn't hurt me."

As Lucifer glanced down at her, his grip on the blade eased just a bit, though he still held you firm.

With one final look he lifts his foot from your chest, allowing you sit up with a heaving gasp..

Charlie immediately rushed to your side and threw her small arms around you in a comforting hug.

"See?" she said brightly as though this simple gesture proved everything. "She's nice!"

Lucifer's expression shifted into something more reserved, his eyes cold still wary as he regarded you. "Why have you fallen to my realm?"

After a moment of struggling for words you took a shuddering breath.

"I'm not a...a spy. I...did not come here willingly." Your voice cracked slightly. "I was cast out. Kicked out of Heaven...by someone I trusted."

The Accuser of Humanity's gaze softened ever so slightly. He seemed to weigh your words carefully, watching you closely for any hint of deception.

Finally with a nod, he extends a hand toward you. "Come with me."

Too tired to resist or even question you follow him out of the scorched landscape.

The Magne-Morningstar home was grand and imposing—its sharp gothic lines softened only by the warm glow of lights spilling from the windows.

Inside the atmosphere felt surprisingly welcoming, and yet there was a kind of grandeur to it that reminded you who exactly you were dealing with.

No sooner had you crossed the threshold Charlie whipped towards you with sparkling eyes.

"So what do you want to do first?!" She's bouncing on her feet in excitement. Before you could answer she lets out a gasp. "Wait! I can show you my favorite stuffed toy. I'll be right back!"

With that the golden haired child goes rushing down the hallway and around the corner.

Your steps felt heavier with each one you took the further Lucifer guided into the home. That's when you felt it: a gentle warm presence of comfort that seemed to fill the room before you even saw it.

You looked as a tall and graceful woman appeared.

Lilith. The first wife of Adam.

You had heard stories of course. But none of them did justice to her beauty or the aura of calm authority that surrounded her.

She had an ethereal quality as her golden hair flowed softly over her shoulders. Her gaze was serene yet sharp—it was as if she could read the depths of your being with a single look.

Though that expression softened upon seeing your weary form; your lack of a halo and the unmistakable redness around your eyes telling her all she need.

"Oh...you poor thing," she murmured a motherly sympathy in her tone. Without another word she crossed the room to gently place a hand on your shoulder.

Her touch was a kind of nurturing kindness you hadn't felt since your time in Heaven.

It caused the last bit of your composure to crumble.

Your wings sagged behind you, mirroring the despair you could no longer keep inside.

You found yourself blubbering, barely coherent as you recounted everything—Adam, the discovery of his plans, his betrayal, the Fall...

Lucifer and Lilith exchanged a look of shock, their expressions reflecting the enormity of what you had just shared.

Lilith moved closer to wrap her arms around you in a comforting embrace.

"Shh it's all right." Her hand gently rests on your back. "You're safe here" she whispers soothingly.

Meanwhile Lucifer's jaw tightened as his eyes flashed with a barely restrained fury.

You could hear the anger in the heavy steps he took leaving the room, muttering something about "speaking with Heaven" as he stormed off.

Left alone with Lilith you felt the weight of exhaustion settle over you like a heavy blanket.

But before you could sink too deeply into it...

"Are you okay?" You look up to see Charlie had crept back into the room, stuffed tortured teddy bear in her tiny hands as she watched you with concern in her wide eyes.

Lilith turned to her daughter with a hint of a reprimand in her tone. "Charlotte, I thought I told you to stay in your room."

Charlie's face fell. She looked down as her shoulders lowered in a mix of disappointment and shame. "I'm sorry Momma..."

Seeing her so crestfallen, you wipe away the last of your tears before putting on a small reassuring smile.

"It's all right, really," you glance at Lilith. "She's just trying to help."

Hesitating at first, the Queen of Hell Lilith steps back allowing Charlie to approach you.

The small child's face lit up instantly. She sidle up next to you and began spewing out questions—she wanted to know everything about you.

Where you'd come from? What Heaven was like? Do angels really sing all the time like they did in stories?

You found yourself chuckling softly and indulge her endless inquiries; each answer drawing out a little more light from you.

Lilith watched with a hint of a smile curving her lips as she observed the two of you.

Seeing her mother's expression, determination gleamed in Charlie's red eyes.

"Are you going to stay here?" her tone was both hopeful and expectant.

You shoot a glance to Lilith. There was a warmth in her gaze as gave a small nod. "If...if it's alright."

The First woman stepped forward, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Of course," she replied, voice as gentle as ever. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need."

The words settled over you like a warm blanket and a sense of belonging slowly started to take root.

You offered her a grateful smile as a tear slip down your cheek, though this time it wasn't from sadness.

Charlie was practically buzzing with excitement. She threw her arms around you in a hug with a loud squeal making you laugh.

You hug her back, your wings curling around the two of you in a cocoon of soft feathers.

In that moment, you felt a strange sense of peace, a flicker of hope stirring in the depths of your heart.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

You were playing an intense game of tag with Charlie.

She had grown over the years, now physically around eight or nine, her features beginning to show hints of maturity.

Life in Hell wasn't as foreign as it once had been. And though it would never be Heaven, the Magne-Morningstar family made it bearable—especially Charlie.

Since Lilith's disappearance you had unofficially become the Princess of Hell's nanny.

A steady presence in her life, you were the one who instilled in her the belief that not everyone deserved damnation if they chose to change.

"Gotta be quicker than that!" Charlie teases as she continues to dart and giggle around you.

This has been going on for a while now of you being It; your body beginning to tire out as she zips around with gleeful squeals.

It was just by chance you manage to tap her shoulder. A grin decorated your face as she skidded to a halt, pouting at you with a glare.

"Fine fine...I'm It," she grumbled. Then a mischievous glint flickered in her eyes, her lips curling into a sly grin when a red glow began to faintly surround her body.

Your brows raise at this. "Using your powers to cheat? Now Charlie..." you warned despite your smile betraying you.

In a blink of an eye she appears before you and shoves against your chest a victorious grin "Tag you're IT!"

The moment she touched you a sharp intense pain coursed through your body, cutting off your laughter and leaving you gasping.

The playful atmosphere vanished.

Your hand flew to your chest where her fingers had brushed against you and you stumbled back, eyes wide and pained.

"Oh no!" Charlie's voice wavered with panic, her eyes wide as she stepped back. "Are you okay?!"

Her small hands fluttered nervously as she saw the pain cross your face and her concern only deepened when you couldn't answer her.

Tears pricked at her eyes. Without waiting, she bolted from the room. "Daddy!" she cried out. "Daddy come quick!"

As her footsteps faded you dropped to your knees, the pain slowly ebbing but leaving an unusual warmth in its wake.

Your breathing hitched as the intense sensation spread throughout your body.

You looked down in shock as your hands began to darken, the pitch black color pooling at your fingertips before spreading upward to your forearms and stopping in an ombré-like effect where it faded back to your original skin tone.

The once soft and pure white feathered wings darkened, shifting into a sleek obsidian black as the top layer took on a hardened almost shield-like form while the inner feathers retained their soft down.

You sensed you could control the layers, making them sharp and protective or soft and welcoming.

Hands flew to your face where you felt your incisors growing sharper and longer before moving up to your ear, feeling where they tapered into a subtle elfish point.

In the corner of the room you caught sight of a mirror. You stumbled toward it, your breath catching as you saw your reflection.

Your eyes...

What was once warm and full of light had now turned black as a void. Even the whites of your eyes dimmed to an eerie black, reflecting no color or depth.

The hollow look was unsettling; it made your smile look fake and deceptive—a contrast to the kindness you still felt inside.

You sighed. Seems like the delayed transformation of your Fall finally happened.

Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from down the hall. You turned as Charlie burst back into the room dragging her father along with her.

Lucifer's usual composed expression faltered as his eyes landed on you.

"Um...you look..." He stammered at a lost for words. "...you...look—"

"Amazing!" Charlie interrupted in awe. Her eyes sparkled with uncontained giddiness as she looked you up and down, not the slightest bit put off by your new appearance.

Before either of you could react, she darts forward and leaped into your arms, immediately peppering you with questions.

"Does it hurt? Can you still fly? Oh your wings look so cool now!" Her hands eagerly brushed over your blackened hands while eyeing the new texture of your wings in infectious excitement.

You glance over her shoulder to meet Lucifer's gaze.

He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "This is...going to be a while."

The opening of the front door snapped you back to the present. You stood at the entrance of Hazbin Hotel, taking in the familiar figure who now occupied its doorway.

Charlie was all grown up. She had changed so much in the years since you'd last seen her.

She looked taller, her face holding an edge of determination and resilience, but the warmth and earnest in her eyes were exactly the same.

You found yourself tilting your head just to meet her gaze, memories of the little girl she'd once been rushing back as you saw the woman she had become.

Charlie's expression froze as she took in the sight of you. "....____" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Overcome with warmth and nostalgia you gave her a soft smile. "Charlotte Magne-Morningstar," you whispered fondly, your voice catching as you took her in.

She look to the ground with an embarrassed but happy smile playing on her lips. "It's...just Morningstar now. I've decided to just use dad's name," she said softly, a hint of sorrow in her tone.

You gently cup her cheek and lift her face to meet yours. "Morningstar...Magne...Either way it's a beautiful name no matter what. Just like you."

At that her composure broke and she flung her arms around you into a fierce hug. You held her close as the years of separation seemed to melt away in that single embrace.

After a few moments, she pulled back, laughing a little at her own tears as she wiped them away.

Regaining her cheerful spirit once more she turns back to the open doors. "Well come inside—I've got so much to show you. And I can't wait for you to meet the rest of the team!"

As you entered the hotel you couldn't help but marvel at its vibrant chaotic charm. It was a colorful place, full of life and personality—a reflection of Charlie's dreams for redemption.

She led you through the lobby in excited chatter, clearly eager for you to meet the others.

The first person to approach was Vagatha. She regarded you with a cautious look, and as you moved forward to greet her you saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes.

You already knew her from Charlie's early days, and though Vaggie wasn't much of a hugger, she allowed you to pull her into an embrace.

"Vaggie~" you cooed with a gentle squeeze. "You've taken such good care of her haven't you? I always knew Charlie had the best taste—and here you are as strong and dependable as ever."

Clearly not used to such open displays of affection, Vaggie stiffened, but a hint of a smile cracked her otherwise serious expression.

"Yeah well...someone's gotta make sure she doesn't get herself into too much trouble," she mumbled as she awkwardly patted your back before pulling away.

You grinned, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder. "I knew you'd be the perfect match for her Vaggie. You keep her grounded."

"Well, well, who's this classy broad Charlie dragged in here?" A tall slender figure with an almost impossibly long set of legs strutted into view.

His spidery frame was clothed in a light pink blazer with white stripes running down its length and a grey miniskirt.

Standing in a playful arrogant stance, his hands was on his hips as he leaned closer to examine you, a mischievous glint in his cerise pink eyes.

"Well look at you," he drawled, a smirk curling over his lips as he eyed you up and down.

"I usually don't swing that way, but for you sweetheart...." his voice lowered to a flirtatious purr, "I'll even give ya a 99% discount."

You held his gaze, raising a brow with an amused smile as you gave him your own once-over. "Oh I'm flattered. But I'd be careful with discounts that high—someone might think you're giving it out for charity."

For a split second the Sinner's confident expression wavered. He blinked, obviously thrown off, before tossing his head back with a little laugh. "Feisty huh? Well your loss."

In attempt to regain his composure, he wiggles his brows with a smug grin. "Name's Angel Dust. First official Sinner to sign up to this joint! My man works here too, at the bar no less."

"Fuck no I'm not!" A gruff voice immediately barks from across the room.

You turn to see another demon slouched at the bar. He had scruffy looking cat features with large red wings that were speckled with roulette wheel designs.

His top hat sat low over his eyes as he stood with an aura of a man who'd seen more than his fair share of life's troubles.

With a bored look, he lifted his glass and tossed back in one go, muttering something under his breath.

Angel Dust lean toward you as if to share a secret. "That one's Husk. He's our resident grump. Don't let the wings fool ya though; he's got about as much pep as a wet mop."

"Yeah yeah," Husk grunted in response, his piercing yellow eyes briefly landing on you with a look of mild indifference. "Nice to meet you whoever you are."

Before you could reply, a small blur of energy barreled into your chest with surprising force.

Years of experience with a young Charlie had honed your reflexes so you managed to keep your balance as a little figure attached itself to you.

You look down to see a pint-sized girl already looking up at you with a her big sparkling eye.

She wore a frilly maid dress, her pinkish-red hair in a messy bob and a bright sharp-toothed grin that made her appear younger than she probably was.

"Hiya!" she squealed, practically bouncing in your arms. She quickly slipped free and darted around you; poking and prodding at your wings, your clothes, your hair—her curiosity boundless. "Oh wow! Are you an angel? Why do your eyes look like that? Are your wings real? They seem sharp, are they sharp? Why're you here? Can I help you clean something?"

The fuzziness in your heart grew as you took in her enthusiasm. She reminded you so much of young Charlie—curious, innocent, and full of boundless energy.

"Well aren't you just a little ray of Sunshine?" you say warmly. "And yes the wings are real. I'm just visiting here to help Charlie."

"Oh I love helping!" she announced proudly as she beamed up at you. "I'm Niffty! I clean the whole hotel and I can fix things and catch bugs and—"

"Well Niffty it's nice to meet you." You ruffle her hair at her eagerness. "I'll be counting on you to help me settle in then."

Niffty giggled, bouncing up and down on the tips of her toes. "You got it! I'll show you the ropes don't you worry!"

Just as she gave a mock salute a sudden chill washed over you. Your entire body went rigid, feathers ruffling and bristling instinctively as you scanned your surroundings.

The shift in your stance didn't go unnoticed—everyone around you paused, watching in confusion as you snapped your head toward a shadowed corner of the room.

In one smooth motion you scooped Niffty into your arms and shielded her with your wings.

She blinked up at you in surprise but was content enough to stay nestled in your arms.

The others exchanged puzzled glances as the room continue to fill with a static-like energy.

"Interesting," came an eerie voice from nowhere. The sensation of dread sharpened, twisting in your gut as air in the room thickened with glitching shadows that warped with a pulse.

"My my my...How delicate your radar must be my dear!" the voice drawled, distorted and warped, as if coming from an old radio.

The shadows swirled together in a grotesque display of shapes and symbols, each flickering with demonic intent.

Glitching in and out of focus, a figure began to take form, limbs stretching unnaturally until they merged into a humanoid shape.

Finally, the figure solidified into a man in a tailored red suit adorned with a permanent razor-sharp smile.

He was tall and dapper with crimson eyes that gleamed with amusement as he tipped his head.

"Radio Demon," you murmured, a slight edge still in your voice as you took him in.

"Ah! I see my reputation precedes me." His grin sharpened as he extended his hand with exaggerated elegance. "A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

Your gaze move down to his extended hand. Then, steeling yourself, you reached out and grasp his with your fingertips delicately.

"The pleasure is all mine Alastor." Your gaze remained steady.

He chuckled lowly as his gaze dart to Niffty.

The little demoness remained calmly in your arms—an unusual sight as she was normally a bundle of energy bouncing around the room.

Noting her stillness his eyes widened ever so slightly before his smile stretched further.

For a flicker of a second he looked truly entertained.

"Why Miss Niffty, so well-behaved," he commented smoothly, his voice laced with mock surprise. "I must say this is a rare sight indeed."

You held her a bit closer. Alastor chuckled softly, clearly amused by the subtle tension lingering between you and him.

It was as if the very air was alive with a quiet electric anticipation.

The weight of his stare was sharp and calculating as if he were trying to decipher something deeper about you. "Quite rare to meet someone here with such an...elegant composure, don't you think?"

"I like to call it being prepared. After all, if Charlie's advertisement caught my attention it's only right to be ready for any characters I might encounter in this..." Your head tilt just slightly "...endeavor."

Charlie's cheeks flushed. "You saw that?" Her face grew redder as she nervously glanced around at the others with an embarrassed laugh.

"I mean of course you did! I was um...reaching a broader audience," she stumbled over her words.

You couldn't help the playful smirk that tugged at your lips as you raised a brow at her.

"Yes. It was very...persuasive I'd say." you teased gently, a glint of humor in your eyes. "I suppose you didn't inherit your mother's love for subtlety?"

Charlie scratched the back of her head with a sheepish smile. "Hey well...I had to make sure people would notice right?"

Alastor chuckled, the sound both amused and mocking. "Oh I assure you, it was quite unforgettable darling."

The tension in the room gradually began to ease and Charlie's slight embarrassment gave way to a warm grateful smile as she turned to you.

"I can't say I knew for sure you'd come, but I hoped you would." Her voice was with relief, "You've already done so much for me and now that you're here...I feel like maybe this really could work."

You met her gaze, your expression softening as you gave her a reassuring nod. "Then it sounds like I'll be sticking around."

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

Time passed at the Hazbin Hotel and the chaotic yet oddly comforting environment began to feel like home.

You had settled into a familiar rhythm of helping Charlie manage the place and creating a warm, nurturing atmosphere for anyone who entered.

From helping with the more eccentric residents to patching up old furniture and sewing comforting quilts for the rooms—even the smallest gestures seemed to lift her spirits.

To the Princess of Hell, her dream of redemption had finally gained some grounding.

She took on the role with a fierce optimism and you couldn't help but admire her dedication.

One of the more surprising connections you formed was with Alastor.

He frequently appeared whenever you were working alone, often in the most unexpected ways, with that trademark grin of his.

At first his intense fascination was unsettling; his attention always lingered just a moment too long, his eyes following you with a glint of curiosity that felt...predatory.

But over time a strange rapport developed between you.

Alastor had a habit of calling you My Doe, a nickname laced with a sinister charm that made you wonder if he viewed you as something to be admired—or as prey.

You gave him a half-smile the first time you heard it; equal parts wary and intrigued. "I'm honored you think so, Alastor. But I can't imagine you chose that nickname out of respect for my innocence."

"Oh no," his eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark. "I simply enjoy...delicate creatures, especially ones who wander into the woods so willingly."

He often observed you as if studying an intricate puzzle, letting out certain remarks every now and again to test your reaction.

And yet you handled his presence with the same calm poise you extended to everyone else.

One particular afternoon, you were sitting in the hotel lounge, carefully sewing a quilt to place in one of the rooms for a newly arrived sinner.

Each stitch was precise—your hands moving rhythmically as you worked on the fabric.

Alastor lounged nearby in an armchair with a newspaper in hand, though his eyes frequently drifted over the top of the paper to watch you.

"You're quite the homemaker my Doe," he remarked as he lowered the paper slightly to catch your reaction. "It's rare to find such...dedication in these infernal lands."

You look up to meet his piercing gaze with a small amused smile. "Someone has to bring a bit of comfort here. Besides, it helps Charlie's mission if the guests feel more welcome."

Alastor's smile widened with a hint of mischief.

"Ah, ever the gentle spirit. I must say it's fascinating to watch." He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he continued to observe you with that keen predatory interest.

"Perhaps one day you'll teach me your ways," he added, voice dipped in mock reverence. "Though I can't promise I'd make as lovely a hostess."

You chuckled as you folded the edge of the quilt. "I think the hotel is charming enough without your help Alastor. But perhaps I'll teach you a few things...that's if you're willing to learn."

His eyes glinted with amusement as if accepting a challenge. "Oh I'd be delighted my Doe."

Just as the banter between you settled into a comfortable silence, a faint sound echoed from the entrance hall.

You chose not to care but Alastor's sharp gaze flicked towards the source, his smile fading as he gracefully stood up with an unsettling swiftness.

The shift in his posture was immediate; he was no longer relaxed but rather alert, as if sensing something powerful approaching.

"Ah my sweet daughter. Did you really think you'd get away with such...ambition without inviting your dear father to see the spectacle?" A deep voice, with an edge of malice, boomed into the lounge.

Footsteps echoed down the hall before the room was filled with an aura of that seemed to make the very walls shudder.

Dressed in a crisp white suit trimmed in red with a wide-brimmed hat topped by a gold snake and crowned with a gleaming red apple, the sleek black cane in his hand tapped the floor as he entered.

Lucifer Morningstar had arrived.

He stood tall and regal as he exuded his usual aura of authority and charm. Sharp crimson eyes shining with amusement swept over the room.

But when Lucifer's gaze fell on you, his entire demeanor shifted.

His stern expression softened and his eyes brightened as a wide smile crept across his face.

"Ah...there you are." His voice dropped to something tender and almost bashful.

The First of Fallen practically beamed at you, a blush dusting his cheeks. "I...missed you," he murmured, a touch of nervousness coloring his tone.

He crossed the room quickly, eyes fixed on you with a gleam. The moment he reached your side, he gently took your hand in his and pressed it to his chest with a dramatic sigh.'

"My dear ____," he was filled with a childlike glee. "I've missed you more than you can imagine. It has been simply dreadful without your presence. Every day felt like an eternity."

You couldn't help but smile back, equal parts amused and fond. Reaching up you give his head a gentle pat on the head. "Lucifer it's only been a month."

At the touch his face turned a deeper shade of pink. "Yes but two weeks without you," he insisted, his voice soft and adoring.

A faint giggle escaped him as he tilted his head toward your touch like he was savoring every second of it.

The room had fallen into an almost comical silence.

Charlie stood frozen in shock, mouth slightly open as she watched her father—Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell—behaving like a lovesick puppy.

Vaggie's usual expression of skepticism heightened to the point where she looked like she was witnessing a miracle.

Angel Dust had to physically stifle his laughter with a three gloved hands pressed to his mouth as he shook with barely contained glee.

But it was Alastor's reaction that stood out the most.

His trademark grin had faltered; head tilted slightly as his eyes narrowed at Lucifer's affectionate display with you.

It was as if he were analyzing each expression, each movement—trying to understand the spell you seemed to cast on Hell's most feared figure.

Whatever it is, he couldn't help but feel like this was just beginning.

Tag-list for this series!:

@6jack6rabbit6

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gothictravelguide · 2 months ago

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#mine #dc metro #metro center #dc #washington dc #brutalism #brutalist architecture #architecture #public transportation #urban #urban photography #street photography #subway #train #tunnel #americana #united states #the gothic travel guide

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mybeautifulpoland · 11 months ago

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Most Sacred Heart of Jesus Catholic Church, Kołowo, West Pomerania, Poland by Jolanta Opoń

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holybibly · 1 year ago

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Bunnies, I'm in a good mood today, so I'm going to give you a little teaser of my upcoming work with Hwa. I'm going to raise the bar for fanfic writing by creating the most gothic and decadent universe possible. It's a vicious mix of Interview with the Vampire and Dracula, so if you don't like bloody luxury, I feel so sorry for you.

It has always been like this, and it will always be like this—people avoid the village that stands beside the sinister Gothic castle where, according to legend, a beautiful midnight somnambulist holds the guilty legacy of his bloodthirsty ancestors. Dressed in an ancient coronation robe, the magnificent prince of vampires sits alone in his dark, vast house, under the watchful eye of his mad and terrible ancestors, who stare at him from faded portraits, each of them prolonging their dreary posthumous existence through him. He spreads the tarot cards, tirelessly constructing endless constellations of indeterminate possibilities, as if a chance fall of cards on a regal, bloody velvet tablecloth could take him out of this cold, shuttered room and into a land of eternal summer and human warmth, erasing his heart's ancient sadness and allowing him to feel the love for the one who embodies both life and death simultaneously.

His voice is full of the distant echoes of long-forgotten love poems, like an echo that has resounded beneath the layers of the earth: "You have traveled to a place from which there is no return; you have traveled to a place from which there is no return. And he himself is like a dark dungeon filled with lonely echoes—a system of repetition, a closed circle. He is so handsome that his beauty appears unnatural; his beauty is an anomaly, a perfect defect, for in none of his hypnotic features is there even a suggestion of the poignant imperfection manifested in the imperfection of human existence. His beauty is the sign of a fatal disease; his blood is full of poison; and his black tears are the sign of the absence of a soul in him.

The elegant hands of the beautiful denizens of darkness are the guides of the hand of fate. The nails on his hands are long and sharpened like steel daggers. These nails and teeth—beautiful, glistening in the darkness like snow under the light of the moon—are visible signs of his inescapable fate, which he so desperately tries to escape with magical powers. His claws and teeth have been honed by centuries of brutal wars and bloody orgies; he is the last descendant of a poisonous, barren tree that took root in a time when men worshipped blind gods and the forces of nature.

As soon as the flaming sun sets, he rises from his luxurious bed and goes to the table, and sitting at that table, he plays his patient game until hunger awakens in him—an insatiable, scorching hunger that burns his whole being.

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petalpetal · 3 months ago

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Anyway here is the full list of books I’ve read this year this is a mix of adult and YA with one middle school book the ones in bold are my big reccomenders

- Hild and Menewood by Nicola Griffith

- Thousand Crimes of Ming Tsu by Tom Lin

- Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

- Joan by Kathrine J. Chen

- The Daughter of Doctor Moreau by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

- Butcher of The Forest by Premee Mohamed

- The Fox Wife by Yangsze Choo

- Red Rabbit by Alex Grecian

- Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher

- Starling House by Alix E. Harrow

- The Scholomance series by Naomi Novik

- Our Hideous Progeny by C.E. McGill

- Fifty Beasts to Break Your Heart: and Other Stories by GennaRose Nethercott

- Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik

- Godkiller and Sunbringer by Hannah Kaner

- Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

- The Weaver and the Witch Queen by Genevieve Gornichec

- A Clash of Steel: A Treasure Island Remix by C.B. Lee

- The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White

- Lore by Alexandra Bracken

- The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield

- The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher

- Gallant by V.E. Schwab

- Clytemnestra by Costanza Casati

- The Eyes Are the Best Part by Monika Kim

- No One Will Come Back For Us: And Other Stories by Premee Mohamed

- Slasher Girls & Monster Boys by Various Authors

- The Libarary of Legends by Janie Chang

- The Bright Sword by Lev Grossman

- Girls Who Burn by MK Pagano

- Starve Arc by Andrew Michael Hurley

- Home Before Dark by Riley Sager

- Catfish Rolling by Clara Kumagai

- A Sorceress Comes To Call by T. Kingfisher

- The Cautious Traveller’s Guide to the Wastelands by Sarah Brooks

- Circe by Madeline Miller

- Woodworm by Layla Martínez

- The Dance Tree by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

- Sworn Soldier series by T. Kingfisher

- Bitter Greens by Kate Forsyth

- A Drop of Venom by Sajni Patel

- Black River Orchard by Chuck Wendig

- Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

- Jonathan Strange & Me Norrell by Susanna Clarke

- The Darkest Part of The Forest by Holly Black

- The Fortune Teller by Gwendolyn Womack

- Six Crimson Cranes series by Elizabeth Lim

- A House With Good Bones by T. Kingfisher

- Boys In the Valley by Philip Fracassi

- The West Passage by Jared Pechaček @jpechacek

- The Girl Who Fell Beneath The Sea by Axie Oh

- Revelator by Daryl Gregory

- The Last Cuentista by Donna Barba Higuera

- Hera by Jennifer Saint

- Life Ceremony by Sayaka Murata

- Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher

- The Drowned Woods by Emily Lloyd-Jones

- The Devil and the Dark Water by Stuart Turton

- Ink Blood Sister Scribe by Emma Törzs

- The Last Tale of the Flower Bride by Roshani Chokshi

- The Last Murder at the End of the World by Stuart Turton

- The Hearts We Sold by Emily Lloyd-Jones

- Sistersong by Lucy Holland

- House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland

- The Book of Gothel by Mary McMyne

- The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher

- The Children of Gods and Fighting Men by Shauna Lawless

- The Witch of Colchis by Rosie Hewlett

- Sisters of Sword & Song by Rebecca Ross

- Dragonfruit by Makiia Lucier

- Little Eve by Catriona Ward

- Pilgrim: A Medieval Horror by Mitchell Lüthi

- The Empusium by Olga Tokarczuk

- Juniper & Thorn by Ava Reid

- O Caledonia by Elspeth Barker

- everything by Shirley Jackson

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aurinavenir · 7 months ago

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Dream Jobs for the Creatively Haunted:

Reclusive Novelist. Writes sprawling gothic novels in isolation, rumored to be a vampire, emerging only to send off manuscripts before retreating into the shadows of a candlelit mansion.

Mysterious Antiquarian: Always found in dimly lit libraries, deciphering ancient scrolls by candlelight, dagger discreetly at hand for "protection".

Melancholic Poet with a Laudanum Habit: Writes verses at midnight, prone to night terrors and sleep-walking.

Occultist & Arcane Scholar: Conducts clandestine rituals, studies forbidden grimoires, and seeks contact with otherworldly entities.

Spiritualist Medium: Hosts late-night seances in candlelit parlors, contacting the otherworldly spirits of loved ones or tragic figures from history.

Tortured Artist: Paints dark, brooding masterpieces while battling personal demons, often found pacing in their paint-splattered studio talking to people no one can see.

Opium Den Proprietor: Runs a smoky, velvet-draped hideaway where melancholics and dreamers come to forget the troubles of modern life.

Eccentric Cryptid Hunter: Spends years traveling the globe in search of mythical creatures, with an air of aristocratic eccentricity and a passion for the bizarre.

Amateur Astronomer: Spends long nights in isolation, gazing at the stars through a brass telescope while crafting cryptic maps of constellations.

Traveling Apothecary: Wanders from town to town selling curatives, potions, and strange herbs while trading in whispered legends of lost cures and magic.

Silent Pianist: Plays hauntingly beautiful music in a derelict theater, with rumors that their audience is made up of long-dead spirits.

Lantern-Lit Fog Guide: Leads travelers through the thick, fog-covered streets of London at night, with many wondering if they guide them to safety or something more sinister.

#writing memes #writer memes #writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writer #writing life #creative writing #on writing #fiction #gothic #victorian #bookblr

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iliketangerines · 9 months ago

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hii, i really like ur writings and i always binge reading your masterlist because they're just that good lol.

and do you still take requests? if you do, can you please do tomas who is a vampire and is soo obsessed over fem!reader?

Idk why, I've always associated tomas with gothic vibes (he just gives me vampire/dracula vibes). so, i can imagine him living on a castle alone as a vampire until one day when he was wandering around he suddenly finds reader who is lost and kidnaps her and put her on a cell? (im sorry if this sounds really weird lol). oh and please make tomas dominant because honestly dom!tomas is soo underrated 😔

im sorry if this doesn't make sense lol and it's okay if you don't want to do it! thanks beforehand :)

the castle in the woods

a/n: this is...also going to have to be a part 2...originally gonna be nice and short and then...um...got a bit carried away. also, i do NOT condone this behavior in real life

pairing: vampire!tomas vrbada x gn!reader

warnings: nonconseual blood drinking :)

you shiver as the rain soaks your clothing and sends chills down to your very bone, and the tree leaves do nothing but make the raindrops fat and wet as they fall onto you

clutching your basket closer to your body, you move forward in the stormy weather, trying to find a semblance of shelter in this godforsaken forest

all you wanted was to pick a nice bouquet of flowers for your mother’s birthday, and you friend had suggested a meadow deep in the woods straight ahead

your friend was right, and you had gotten straight to picking the flowers and then had lost track of time as you fell asleep, only waking up to complete darkness and the first few drops of rain on your cheek

then, in the dark of the night, you couldn’t find where you had entered the meadow and now you were utterly and completely lost, about to catch a sickness at this point

still, you have to find some sort of shelter or else you will die out here, the coldness already settling into your bones as the wind screams around you

crashing into another tree in the complete darkness of the night with no moon in the sky, you fall down to the ground and contemplate giving up

then, a flash of lightning that beams down from the sky, you can see the faint reflection of metal gates in front of you

immediately, you perk up and scramble to your feet, wiping your muddy hands on your soaked cloak, and you walk over to the metal gates as quick as you can

as you get closer you realize just how tall the gates are, towering over you as you push at the gates, and they creak open under the weight of your push

you follow along the path, only guided by occasional flash of lightning, and you can see a castle in the distance, dark and gloomy and looking much older than you or your village

something inside you screams danger, and you can feel pinpricks crawling up your spine as you freeze in your tracks as you continue to stare at the castle

thunder laughs in the sky above, dark and angry, and the rain pours down harder

without any choice, you walk briskly to the castle and arrive there in a few short minutes strangely enough, it looked like a much more hefty walk, one meant to be traveled by horses

it didn’t matter, you used the knocker to pound on the entrance of the door, and it’s only a few seconds when the door opens and the face of a pale man with gray hair reveals himself

you shiver and shake and ask if you can come inside and warm up, just until the rain passes and then you’ll take your leave

the man blinks slow at you, nose wrinkling slightly, and he opens the door further to let you inside, gesturing for you to come in

you thank him profusely, shivering and tracking water into the castle, and he closes the door behind you, the clicks and clanks echoing in the empty and vast entry way

it’s dark and cold in here as well, drier than the outside, but somehow you feel colder in here than in the swirling storm outside

the man walks up next to you and asks you to follow him to the living room, and he pauses before saying that his name is Tomas

you nod and through chattering teeth, you introduce yourself and thank him once more as water droplets fall from your body and onto the marble floors

the entire castle is dark but is certainly kept well with how the marble shines beneath your feet and how the statues gleam in the flashes of lightning through the arching windows

yet, there’s not a single maid or butler in sight, just this strange tall man who carries himself much older than he looks

he reaches a dark room, dust free and rather clean and regal and holds his hand out, and he walks into the darkness, the sound of rocks clacking against each other

but then the fire roars to life, and the room is bathed in a warm light, seemingly the only light in this dark castle

the floor is a deep red lush carpet and by the wall, books are stacked neatly and precisely on the bookshelf that extends to the ceiling

a large wooden desk with a rather fancy looking chair sits near the edge of the room, and you toe off your shoes before stepping into the room as to not dirty the lush carpet with mud

by the warm fire, there’s a set of couches and a table for snacks and drinks, much more expensive than your entire cottage house if you had to guess

Tomas looks to you and gestures you over, and you can see clearly that he’s dressed in sleep wear and slippers, looking rather tired for his age

you walk over and untie your cloak and set it near the fire flat on the ground and apologize quietly for interrupting his sleep

he waves you off and says that he is okay and that he does not feel tired, and he eyes you up and down and says he will be right back with some dry clothes for you

before you can even protest, he’s disappeared, leaving you alone in the firelit room to warm and dry your clothes

you strip off the outermost layer of your clothes and set them by the fire, looking around the room for something to hang the clothing on, but you find none

as you put your hands near the fire, turning them front to back to warm them, you can feel exhaustion start to replace the cold feeling in your body, the adrenaline sputtering out as you sit in front of the fire

putting your hands in your face and squishing it, you wake yourself up and stand up, looking to the bookshelf to your right, and you walk on over and browse the titles

you needed to stay awake, just long enough for the storm to pass or for the man to come back, and you pick out a book that has a nice title

flipping to the first page, you start to read, trying to keep your attention on the book as the fire warms and dries the clothes sitting on your body

the sound of footsteps padding along the carpet tears your attention from the book as you look up to Tomas holding up a set of clean and dry clothing

he hands them to you, raising his eyebrows at the book you were reading, and he asks if you’ve read the book before

you laugh and say no but that you wish you had, the book really is riveting, the small library back at home doesn’t even compare to the quality of the books here

the man laughs and says with an amused smile that you should see the actual library in the castle then, and you gape at him, asking that he had more

he nods but insists on you changing first, or else you’ll catch a cold and a shiver runs down your body again as your wet clothing still sticks to your clothing

taking clothing from his hands, he slightly bows his head and then leaves the room for you to change, and you do so quickly

rubbing at the material between your fingertips, it feels much nicer than anything you’ve ever owned, even your nicest gown, and it’s smooth and thin but completely engulfs you

you pull off your underwear, soaked down to every fiber, and place it near the fire, hopefully inconspicuous enough that he didn’t notice you weren’t wearing underwear

pulling the pants of its neat folded state, they’re much too baggy for you to wear, falling down to your ankles even when you tie the drawstrings

you forgo them, the shirt was baggy enough anyway to cover you to halfway down your thighs, and you spread the rest of your clothes by the fire

Tomas calls from outside the room to ask if he can come in, and you say that he can as you stand up carefully and make sure the shirt covered everything indecent

he steps in and blinks, hands clenching onto the tray of tea in his hands, and you thank him again for giving you shelter and dry clothes, bowing as you do so

waving you off, he says it’s no problem and takes a seat on the lush couch across from you, and he asks you what your thoughts are on the book

his large hands comes up to pour a cup of dark tea, darker than any that you’ve seen before, and he slides it over to where you’ve sitten down

you take the cup gratefully, letting it warm your hands further as you take a sip, and you let the flavor sit on your tongue, unsure of exactly what Tomas had put into the tea

he takes his own sip of the tea, placing a sugar cube into his cup, and you ask what kind of tea this is

it’s red tea from china, dark and red and delicious, he explains and you nod and take another sip, letting the rich taste settle into your stomach and warm you

Tomas repeats his question from before, and you perk up and pick the book up, saying that you’ve only gotten a few chapters in but it’s quite a fun read

he laughs and tells you to read the book and tell him your thoughts as you read, he hasn’t someone to read with in ages, and you quirk an eyebrow at him, asking why he doesn’t have one of his maids or butlers read with him them

looking to the side, he says that he has none, he takes care of the castle and grounds by himself, but he doesn’t mind it at all, it takes up the time

you press your lips together and nod, how strange that he took care of the whole castle by himself, even in the distance you could tell how vast the building was and the grounds were expansive

he looks to you and flicks his eyes back down to the book, resting in your hands, and you take another sip of your tea and open the book up to read

it’s not like you had any reading buddies back in your own village either, and the thought of having someone to express opinions about a book you both have read excited you

going through the book, you read quietly and listen to the crackle of the flames, adjusting your position on the couch so that you back rested on the armrest and your legs spread along the cushions

thankfully, the shirt was still baggy enough to hide everything, and Tomas sipped on the rest of his tea before standing up and going to pick out his own book to read

the both of you read in silence, and you let the words of the book envelop around you and bring you into their world

the rain continues to pound against the window as the both of you read and every so often you gasp, and he asks what’s happened in the book

it’s a comfortable routine, and you read about the romance of the two characters in the book, talking to each other and arguing about something

very quickly, the book devolves into something much more raunchier, and your face burns as you close the book to take a second to process what you just read

Tomas asks if everything was okay, and you nod and cross your legs, saying that everything was okay, the book had just made a sudden turn

he tilts his head and asks how, and you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes trailing up the length of your legs before landing on your face once more

you shift in your seat to sit properly again, feet landing on the soft carpet, and you say that you just hadn’t expected the book to delve into more…sexual topics

smiling at you, he just tilts his head, unblinking as he continues to stare at you, eyes flicking downwards, and you cross your arms over your chest, suddenly cold and uncomfortable in the heat of his stare

he seems to notice your discomfort and says that you could skip a few pages ahead, but you would be missing important plot information if you did that

the story had sucked you in unexpectedly, and you did want to know how the story ended

opening the book back in and leaning back into the couch, you start to read where you had left off, trying to not seem so tense as you read about the two characters

you can’t help as you feel arousal pool in your gut, and you cross your legs tightly to try and get rid of some of the tension as you continue to read

your face seems to burn hotter than the fire you sit next to, and you press your lips together as you finally reach the end of the story

there’s a whoosh of air, and you flinch as you find Tomas standing in front of you, leaning over your body and asking if you liked the scene

there’s a sense of dread settling in your bones, and a sense of danger that screams and coils in your gut as he leans in closer, smiling at you

in the gleam of the lightning, you can see his canines glint, long and pointed and how his eyes are a dark red instead of a brown like you had thought

you had walked into a vampire’s home and conversed with a vampire and drank tea with a vampire and now the vampire stood in front of you, smile growing wider as he realizes that you’ve found him out

he laughs, hand planting by your side, and he licks his lips as you tremble in your seat, frozen to your spot as his other hand comes up to grip onto your chin

tilting your chin up, he says that he can hear your heartbeat, can smell the sweet blood running through your veins, can nearly taste your arousal on his tongue

you’re the first human to come to this castle in decades, and he had been so bored, unable to leave the estate, taking care of the same places over and over again

with inhuman strength and speed, everything had just become so easy and boring, but you had walked right into his home, sweet and innocent as a lamb

he thinks he’ll be keeping for a while, his little pet and treat, and before you can even blink he’s moved you, slammed you onto the couch, one thigh in between your legs

the sudden movement makes your head spin, and your hands finally move, scrabbling to hit and scratch him

his hand easily catches yours and pins them above your head, and you squirm and whimper for him to please let you go as he just laughs in your face

he leans in close to your neck, pressing his nose against the flesh, and he breathes in your scent with a deep breath, letting out a contented sigh at the smell

looking back up at you, he says that you’re his now, as long as you’re on his property, you are his and he will play with you as he sees fit

you can’t help it as you start to sob, the weight of the situation settling in as you realize that you will never be able to escape him and that you had become his the second you had saw him

he coos at you, telling you that he won’t hurt you, or at the very least not too much, and that you’ll be well-taken care of

his castle holds everything, gardens with crops, farm animals in the stables outside, fresh water from the wells, a kitchen for cooking all the food, and if you want something, he can get it for you with no problem

you cry out that you want to go home, and Tomas grins at you, saying that you are home now

leaning his head down, his tongue drags along the length of your neck, and he hums at the taste as you whimper and shut your eyes at the feeling

Tomas laughs against your skin as he continues to lick about the length, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses

this time you can’t stop the whimper that leaves your mouth, and he sighs at the sound, mumbling against your skin to stop fighting, that you were going to stay here forever with him and that you would grow more comfortable with the fact if you just stopped struggling

his teeth press against the pulse in your neck, and your breath catches as you start to squirm again, trying to get away from him

he doesn’t care about your struggle and simply presses his weight further into your body, stilling you just long enough for his teeth to break the surface and drink in your blood

you whimper and cry pitifully as he drinks from you, and blood seeps out of his mouth and down your neck slowly

his hands clench tighter onto your wrists as he moans at the taste of your blood, eyes fluttering shut, and it sounds lewd as he continues to drink from you

the sound is wet and loud as he sucks in blood from your neck, drinking and drinking and drinking, and you can feel your head becoming light and see the world start to spin about you

finally he brings his face away from your neck, licking at the last little droplets dripping down his lips, and you can make out through your hazy vision the droplets of blood that have fallen down to his chin

his eyes seem brighter now, red as your blood as you stare at him, and his lips are a deep shade of red as his tongue darts out to wet his lips

you can see how his face has more color in it, how his skin seems to glow and how a flush grows on his cheeks as he continues to stare down at you

he lets go of you, and you leave your wrists above you, body too exhausted to even think about moving and trying to fight against a vampire

he rips at his own sleep shirt, pressing the cloth against your neck to stop the bleeding

your eyes are drooping close and your body feels so heavy as he brings one of your hands down to press against the cloth at your neck

as your eyes finally close, too heavy to stay open, you can feel him kiss your forehead in the haze of sleepiness filling your senses

you wake up to high ceilings and a dark room, only lit by the torch in the corner of the room, and under the comfort of cool dark silk sheets

struggling to sit up, you fight through the dizziness and to observe your surroundings, pulling the covers off of your body and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed

your legs give out from under you immediately, and you fall to the floor, barely catching yourself with your arms as your head violently pounds at your head

there’s a whoosh of air, and you feel strong arms pick you up to deposit you back onto the bed, mumbling that you shouldn’t be up and about so soon

it’s the vampire, Tomas, and you weakly squirm in his arms to try and get away

he sighs at your weak form of protest and simply places you gently onto the bed and pulls the cover back over you, bowing his head slowly and apologizing

it catches you off-guard as he turns his head to the side and awkwardly coughs before continuing, saying that he shouldn’t have taken so much blood

that was what made him apologize, not the fact that he had taken your blood unwillingly, your voice is shrill and much more higher-pitched as you berate him

Tomas says that he’s been starving for years, that no man ever comes by the palace and that he could only drink the blood of the animals he raised in the farm

he was just so desperate for a taste and couldn’t control himself and that perhaps he had gotten a bit carried away with his actions and in words at the prospect of having fresh human blood

licking his lips for just a second, he pauses and says that he doesn’t have to feed for a week now at the very least but that you truly couldn’t leave the grounds anymore and for that, he was sorry

you narrow your eyes at him and ask him what he means by that, and he rubs the back of his neck as he stares at the ground, saying that first you needed to replenish your blood

and that second, he presses his lips together and points at his neck at his own bite marks, and your hand flies up to touch your own neck

there sits two puncture holes that you know his fangs would fit into perfectly, and your mouth gapes open

you would never be able to return, your village was superstitious enough and returning with puncture wounds would seal your death

picking up the closest item next to you, you weakly throw the pillow at him, and it gently poofs at his face before falling onto the floor at his feet

Tomas sighs and picks the pillow up, brushing nonexistent dust off of it and placing it back on the bed next to you, and he says that it really isn’t all that bad

he hadn’t turned you into one of his spawn, so you would still be able to traverse in the sunlight and take walks out in the warmth of the light, explaining as he sits on the edge of the bed

pressing his lips together, the vampire apologizes, saying that he had gotten a bit too excited when you had come up to his castle, willingly, and had been so…unassuming

it had been so long since he had fresh human blood to invigorate him, he shouldn’t have drinken from you, and now you were stuck with him until you died

the reminder of your position makes you hang your head low and tears well in your eyes as you hands grip on tighter to the sheets

he gives you a mournful look and stands up from the edge of the bed and says he’ll give you some time to process everything and when you’re ready to find him

as he leaves, he pauses by the door and says that if you need anything, just ring the bell by the door and he’ll get you whatever you desire

and with that, the door closes behind you, and you’re left alone with your thoughts and your tears

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